


Being Useful

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Castiel is lost, Dean in Panties, Extremely Dubious Consent, Forced Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Fuck Or Die, Implied/Referenced Torture, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Objectification, Owner Castiel, Pining, Sexual Slavery, Sibling Incest, Slave Dean, Slave Sam, Slave Training, Slavery, Sub Dean Winchester, Switch Castiel, Switch Dean, Switch Sam, Tattoos, Threesome - M/M/M, castiel is in over his head, devocalization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-11-20 14:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11337315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: Prompt:Heaven stuns Cas by offering him an olive branch. They want him to come home, just to visit, to talk. He can stay permanently with the Winchesters if he likes, but he should be reconciled with his true family.Cas is only gone a short time, but when he returns to the bunker he realizes it was all a ruse.





	1. Chapter 1

The minute Castiel walked through the door, he felt something wrong. 

Something that itched at him, like an ant crawling across the surface of his temporal perception. 

“Sam?” he called into the silent bunker. “Dean?” 

No answer. Not surprising; he’d been in heaven a few days, they’d probably caught a case and gone to investigate. He’d have to check the map table for a note. 

Cas glanced over the edge of the balcony and his heart dropped into his belly.

Sam and Dean were both there, waiting for him, utterly silent. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off them as he pounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time and nearly falling. Neither brother reacted to his distress, remaining completely motionless on their knees. Both of them were naked, and Cas couldn’t think of a single  _ good _ reason for that to be the case. 

He bolted across the concrete, landing on his knees in front of Dean’s kneeling form. Dean flinched slightly, but didn’t raise his eyes from where they were fixed on the floor. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he made no effort to reciprocate when Cas grabbed his shoulders. 

Sam was equally still, his eyes on the floor, his hands behind his back. Cas reached over, shaking him gently. Sam allowed himself to be moved, but had no other reaction to the touch. 

A sense of  _ wrong _ fluttered across Cas’s senses. Something deeper than the brothers’ behavior. Cas frowned, focusing. 

Time. They were out of time. They were… displaced. 

He’d only been gone a few days, but for these two,  _ months  _ had passed. 

“Oh, no,” Cas whispered. “Oh no. Oh, no.” 

He cupped Dean’s face with his hands, forcing him to look up. Dean allowed the gesture, but kept his eyes fixed on the floor. 

There was a collar around his neck, made of pliant leather. Cas gaped.  

“What happened? Where have you been?”  

Neither brother moved. 

“Dean,  _ look at me, _ ” he ordered. Dean’s eyes flicked up, focusing momentarily on Cas’s mouth before dropping again. Cas’s fingers tightened on his shoulders, digging tight. “Talk to me, what  _ happened? _ ” 

“He can’t answer, master,” Sam said. Cas turned on him, and Sam flinched minutely. 

“What did you say?”

“‘pologies for speaking out of turn,” Sam said. His voice was utterly toneless. Cas felt something twisting in his belly.

“What do you mean, ‘he can’t answer’?” 

Sam’s head dipped lower, his hair falling across his face. Something glinted between the locks, and Cas realized that his ear was pierced. 

“If he won’t speak respectfully, he’s not allowed to speak at all,” Sam answered. It sounded like he was repeating something he’d said many many times before. 

“Not allowed by whom?” 

Sam opened his mouth, then seemed to gag. He inhaled deeply, and tried again. 

“The angels, master.” 

Dread washed over Castiel. It made sense now. The olive branch. The pasted smiles of his brothers and sisters. They were  _ stalling. _ They wanted him in heaven so they could do…  _ this. _

“No,” Cas said firmly. “No, that’s not happening. This isn’t happening.”

He grabbed at Dean’s collar, flicking the clasp open. Sam flinched, making a small, wordless sound. The collar slithered to the ground, landing between Dean’s spread thighs. Instantly, Dean’s eyes flicked up, filling with terror as he met Castiel’s gaze at last. 

“He isn’t disobedient, master,” Sam said quickly. Inflection was leaking back into his voice; Cas didn’t like it. “He’ll obey. We’ll both obey. Anything you want.” 

Dean leaned forward slightly, his shoulders hitching. Cas tilted his head, trying to understand what Dean was doing.  

“They said we’d need to prove it, I can prove it,” Sam stammered. His hands came forward, one resting on his knee and the other disappearing beneath his hair. 

_ It’s longer, _ Cas thought stupidly, and then Sam made a terrible grimace, and blood began to drip down the side of his throat. 

“They said you’d believe, if I gave you this,” Sam explained, panting slightly. He didn’t raise his eyes as he held out the small gold ring that had been through his ear. Cas balked. 

Dean was shuddering harder now, and Cas didn’t know which brother needed his attention more. 

“Why on  _ earth _ would you do that?” Cas snapped. Dean was beginning to lose his composure. He leaned forward, his hands taking his weight. 

“He would have done it too, master,” Sam insisted. “If you’d asked him. Whatever you want.”

Blood was dripping down Sam’s bare chest and Cas couldn’t think. 

“I don’t care what he’d do!” he exclaimed. Sam flinched again, his eyes darting over to where Dean was beginning to list to the side. His mouth fell open a little, and then finally, he looked at Cas. Just for a millisecond. 

Cas shuddered. 

“I can prove it,” Sam said again, much quieter this time. His face paled beneath the blood as he leaned back slightly, his hand moving toward the fork of his legs. 

Cas caught his wrist in an iron grip, unwilling to see what further ‘proof’ the hunter was willing to offer. 

“What’s  _ wrong _ with him?” Cas snapped, searching Sam’s blank face. 

“Nothing, master, nothing’s wrong, he’s a good slave,” Sam insisted. “He’s well trained, he’s worked hard at it, I promise. Please keep him.”

“ _ What? _ ” 

“Apologies,” Sam said quickly, dropping his head forward. Blood dripped onto the floor. “I didn’t mean to give an order, I didn’t, I didn’t-” 

“How do I help him?” Castiel nearly screamed. Sam blinked. Dean’s shoulders were heaving, and Cas realized his lips were turning blue. 

“He can’t breathe without his collar, master” Sam explained, like Cas was being particularly slow. 

Cas released his wrist, scooping up the collar and quickly fastening it around Dean’s throat. Instantly, the hunter gasped, drawing in deep ragged breaths. 

“Thank you,” Sam whispered. His eyes remained downcast, flicking over to his brother when Dean leaned forward, resting his forehead on the floor. “He’s going to make it worth your while.” 

Cas barely heard him. He was gaping at Dean’s arched back. 

It was littered with the scars and marks of the hunter’s trade, but that’s not what Castiel was looking at. 

Dean’s spine was marked by bold black characters, printed in a straight line from the nape of his neck down to his tailbone. Even upside down, Cas could read the high enochian. 

It didn’t translate. He couldn’t have told Dean the meaning even if the human had been able to ask. But Castiel had no problem understanding the meaning. The characters over Dean’s lower back marked him as property. 

And right above it was Castiel’s name. 

Castiel’s throat closed. He reached out, barely thinking as his fingertips brushed the topmost character. 

Dean jerked, flinching like he’d been struck. Even still, he didn’t move away. 

Cas looked to Sam. Without being asked, the younger brother leaned forward, mimicking Dean’s pose. The same message was printed on his skin, in the same elegant script. 

“Oh, Sam,” Cas murmured. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

He almost reached for Dean again, but stopped before making contact. 

“I’m going to fix this. I swear it to you.” 

Neither brother reacted. Cas felt a wave of hopelessness. 

“Dean… I may be able to restore your voice, if you’ll allow me.”

Dean didn’t look up at him, but he nodded slightly. Cas looked to Sam. 

“Will that hurt him? If I try to heal him?” 

Sam shook his head. 

“I don’t think so.” 

Cas touched Dean’s hand this time, rather than his shoulder, so the hunter could see it coming. It didn’t stop him from flinching, but it did lessen the violence. 

Cas’s grace crept into Dean’s body, searching for damage. For all the terror, Dean was in remarkably good condition. Cas searched his hands, up his arms, to his shoulders and throat. His larynx was badly scarred, and Cas healed it with a thought. Moving upwards, he found more scarring on Dean’s mouth and tongue, but the rest of his head was unharmed. Pristine.

Cas felt the blood drain out of his face. He moved down, searching Dean’s chest and belly to confirm what he already knew. Even the residual damage from the hunter’s persistent alcohol abuse was missing. 

Dean had been healed. Thoroughly. Repeatedly. Since the last time Cas had seen him. 

Cas went through each body system carefully, looking for further signs of tampering. He only found one other thing- not scarred, not healed. 

Closing his eyes, Cas healed the tears and bruising between Dean’s legs. The hunter’s breath caught, but he said nothing. As Cas watched, tears gathered behind the man’s thick lashes. Cas was suddenly furious. 

This wasn’t an accident. This had been left unhealed on purpose. 

Dean had been raped. Violently. And they wanted Cas to know it. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Dean gave no indication that he had heard. Instead he reached out, pressing his palm against Cas’s groin. Cas froze, staring dumbly as Dean began to rub at him. 

Jerking out of his confusion, Cas caught Dean’s hand and gently pulled it to the side. 

“Can use my mouth if you’d rather,” Dean mumbled. “‘M real good at it.” 

Cas couldn’t help it. He threw his arms around Dean’s shoulders, pulling his friend in close. 

“I’m going to fix this,” he promised, though Dean had no reaction. “I swear if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to fix this.” 

 

~~~ 

 

More than once, angels had made comments about Castiel’s unusual bond with Dean. It was that connection, Cas suspected, that had lead to the  _ intimate _ nature of the man’s torture. He hoped that his more platonic relationship with Sam might have saved him from his brother’s fate- but as Cas’s grace spread through Sam’s body, he encountered the same damage. 

And once it was healed, Sam responded the same way.

Cas was ready for it and caught his hand, guiding it back to the floor. 

“I’d like for you to stand,” Cas said, and both men rose silently before he could continue. 

On their feet, the two of them shifted their gazes, now looking upwards, baring their throats. Cas found himself unsure of how to proceed. 

“If I give you an order that will… hurt you. I need you to tell me before you follow it. Verify. Understand?” 

“Yes, master,” the two of them answered. Their voices were terrifyingly empty. Cas waited to see if they would add anything else. They didn’t. 

“Come with me,” he sighed, before turning and heading down the hallway. 

He should have noticed Dean’s hesitation as they approached his room. He should have asked why the hunter’s steps faltered when Castiel’s hand touched the doorknob. 

He didn’t notice, and when the door opened and the lights flickered on, he was unprepared for Dean’s reaction. 

It seemed that Sam was more familiar with his brother’s behavior, because when Dean turned to bolt, Sam caught him. In one easy motion he caught Dean’s arms and used them to spin the man back toward Castiel. 

“Don’t,” Sam hissed. “Don’t make it worse on yourself.”

_ Don’t make me watch again.  _

The unspoken plea was obvious in Sam’s toneless voice, in Dean’s terrified fury. 

Slowly, Cas turned back toward the room. 

Dean’s weapons had been taken off the walls, and replaced with a collection of… Castiel could only describe them as torture devices. Whips. Electrodes. Rubber tubing. 

In the center of everything, Dean’s bed sat untouched, a ghost of what the room had once been. 

“ _ Clothes, _ ” Cas said. It came out louder than he meant, and both brothers flinched. He lowered his voice and continued. “I just wanted to get you some clothes. Are they still in here?” 

Sam nodded, without releasing Dean. 

Cas went in alone, not expecting either of them to follow. He half expected to find the dresser empty, or filled with some combination of leather and lace. It made him immediately suspicious when instead, he was greeted with familiar flannel and denim. 

A sound behind him drew his attention and he turned. Dean was behind him, unexpectedly close. 

_ Personal space, _ Cas remembered, but he didn’t step back. For once, he wasn’t the one stepping it, it was  _ Dean- _

And Dean didn’t _ mean _ it, Cas admonished himself, stepping back. Dean didn’t follow. 

“Pick something,” Cas directed, gesturing toward the bureau. “Anything… whatever you feel most comfortable in.” 

He stepped out of the way and Dean hesitated. 

“You don’t wanna… tell me?” he asked. His voice was stilted. Cas shook his head. 

“I can’t begin to imagine what those angels put you through, or what they made you think, but I wasn’t a  _ part _ of it. I swear to you. Nothing has changed between us, Dean.” 

Dean reached for the bureau again. His fingers froze on the uppermost handle. Very slowly, he eased the drawer open, revealing a messy pile of dark cottons. 

Dean glanced to Cas for confirmation, and Cas nodded. 

“Whatever you like the best,” he repeated. “I want you to be comfortable.” 

Dean reached into the drawer, rummaging deep and coming up with something pink. 

For a second, Cas thought it was something the angels had left, some further humiliation. But no; it had been buried deep under the rest of Dean’s clothes. 

“That’s what you want?”

Dean’s had formed a fist, crushing the velvet. 

“Yes,  _ Master. _ No lying to a mind reader.” His shoulders slumped a little. “Learned that one early.” 

Cas balked, realizing what he’d done.  

“Dean, I-” 

“‘pologize for mouthing off,” Dean interrupted. He stooped, stepping into the tiny garment. “Followin’ orders, see?”

Cas was struck momentarily speechless. The velvet stretched over Dean’s thighs before settling into place over his hips. There was a panel missing, right over the sacrum, laced together with ribbon-

Electricity flickered through Cas’s belly, immediately quelling when his eyes travelled up Dean’s body to the haunched set of his shoulders. His arms were crossed over his belly, his face burning red. 

Cas opened his mouth to apologize again, but Dean knelt first, his gaze dropping to Cas’s belt. 

“Whatever you’re gonna do, do it in here? I don’t want-” Dean visibly flinched. He was silent, like he was waiting for something, and then “he doesn’t need to know?” 

“No, no, of course not- Dean, this wasn’t a  _ test- _ ” Cas stammered. Dean had no reaction to that. He remained on his knees, mostly naked, the panties stretching slightly over the bulge of his genitals. 

Cas didn’t realize he was staring until Dean looked up at him. His tongue darted out to swipe across his bottom lip, and his hand rose to cup Cas’s hardening cock.

“We can do it in here?” Dean asked hopefully. 

Cas pulled back like he’d been struck. Dean’s gaze dropped back to the floor.  

“No! No, Dean, I’m not going to- I had no  _ idea _ those were in there, I just wanted you to get  _ dressed! _ ” 

Dean nodded. 

“You like them, though.” 

Cas didn’t know where to look. Nothing about this was comfortable. 

“They flatter you,” he decided eventually. 

“You gonna make me wear ‘em out?” 

“I’m not gonna  _ make  _ you do anything.” Cas had a sudden thought. “Would you  _ rather _ be walking around naked?” 

“It makes obeying… easier,” Dean said slowly. He sounded like he was choosing his words very carefully. 

For the first time, Cas considered actually reading Dean’s mind. He couldn’t work his way around entendres and subtlety on a  _ good _ day. Today was not a good day. 

As soon as the idea occurred to him, he was disgusted with himself. Like Dean hadn’t been violated  _ enough. _

“I’m going with Sam to his room. You get dressed in  _ whatever you want to wear around the bunker _ and we’ll meet you in the library?” 

He didn’t wait for a reply. He was afraid of what he might hear. 

 

~~~~~

 

The collars didn’t have any particular magic infused into them- not that Castiel could find. He was afraid to inspect too closely. The second his fingers touched the buckles, the humans lost the ability to breathe. 

The intent of the spellwork was clear. These two were less than slaves- they were objects, designed to be…  _ used. _ If Castiel chose to discard them, they would be killed. 

They agreed to dress and walk upright, but when Cas gestured to the tables in the library, the two of them exchanged glances.

They didn’t want to sit in the chairs. Castiel almost insisted, before he realized that Dean’s heart had begun to beat faster, and adrenaline was tinging Sam’s scent. 

So he left it alone. The brothers knelt at his feet, beside his chair. Castiel eventually decided that they could read down there as easily as they could read at the table. And he was able to convince them to kneel on pillows, at least. 

Cas gave them each a book and sat between them, leafing through the weathered old tome, looking for anything that might be relevant. 

He was only three-quarters of the way through it when Sam made a noise. 

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything, sir.” 

Cas blinked, frowning, trying to replay the memory. He had definitely made a sound. Before Cas could identify it, it happened again. 

“Sam,” Cas said, realizing, “when was the last time either of you ate?” 

Sam didn’t look up at him, and it was getting distressing, the way neither of them would meet his eyes. 

“I don’t remember, sir,” Sam answered. He followed it up with an apology for not having an answer, but Cas was too busy trying to remember how often humans ate. When he’d been human, he remembered getting uncomfortable pangs after six to eight hours, and he’d been in the bunker with them… 

He checked the clock. 

Nearly twenty. 

Cas groaned. 

“Go to the bathroom,” he ordered, wincing at how quickly the two humans stood. “Perform whatever ablutions you wish, and meet me back in the kitchen.” 

 

~~~~~

 

They were gone for a depressingly long time, long enough that Cas was almost ready to go check on them. 

He’d just made up his mind to investigate when the brothers appeared in the doorway. Sam’s hair was damp and Dean’s clothes were slightly mussed, so Castiel surmised that they must have showered. 

There wasn’t much food in the bunker, bus Cas had done what he could. There was a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sitting on the table next to a bowl of vaguely stale chips, and the last two bottles of water. 

They knelt on the floor and Castiel suddenly felt overwhelmed. He was quite certain that the two of them would sit there silently and stare at the food until they starved, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Conversely, if he told them to eat- they’d do it until they were sick, because he had told them to. 

Both brothers were larger than his vessel, and in any case, Cas didn’t remember how much food was normal for a meal. 

“I need your help,” he said quietly. Neither hunter reacted, and Cas sighed hopelessly. Then he had an idea. 

“I need to figure out how to break the spell,” he began. “I’m not human and I don’t have biological needs. I… I don’t know how to take care of you.”

Dean’s mouth twitched, and Cas thought he might say something. He waited a moment, but Dean was silent. 

“I’m getting the idea that you won’t ask me for things, correct?”

Silence. 

“Answer me, please.” 

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison. Cas shivered. 

“Then I want you to look after each other. Make sure the other is fed and clothed and clean, in the event that I am… unattentive to your needs. Can you do that?” 

Sam frowned, but Dean nodded. 

“Yes, sir. We can do that.” 

Sam cut a look over at him and Dean met it, the two of them having some conversation that Castiel was not privy to. Very deliberately, Dean reached out and picked up a sandwich. He held it out to Sam and when Sam didn’t react, Dean grabbed his hand and forced him to take it. 

“I assume after this, you’ll want to sleep,” Castiel said, watching the brothers carefully. They picked up food and handed it to each other, but other than that, they seemed to be eating normally. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was frightened of. 

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered, and Cas smiled. 

“Go to sleep, then. When you’re rested, join me in the library again?”

The brothers nodded. 

 

~~~~~

 

Castiel didn’t expect to see them for the rest of the night, so he was pleasantly surprised when Sam appeared in the library half an hour later.

Castiel gave him a wide smile. Sam didn’t see it- his eyes were fixed on the floor. He crossed the room without looking up, coming to kneel at Cas’s feet. 

Cas looked down at him, waiting. This wasn’t what Cas had told him to do. This was initiative, and initiative was good.

Sam was directly in front of Cas, on his knees, facing the angel. He leaned forward, letting his hands rest on Cas’s knees. Before Cas could say anything, Sam pushed them apart, leaning in to nuzzle at Cas’s thigh. 

“We’re grateful,” Sam said evenly. Cas froze, transfixed by the sight of Sam’s cheek on his thigh. “I’ll show you.” 

“You don’t-” Cas started, but it was buried in a groan as Sam’s hands slid up his inner thighs. The man leaned in further, mouthing at Cas’s cock through his slacks. 

Cas could feel himself hardening, but he forced himself to lean forward, pushing Sam gently back. 

“I can’t, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes flicked up, but he remembered himself and dropped them again. 

“You can have whatever you want,” Sam answered. “We’re yours.” 

Cas clenched his eyes, trying not to picture the brothers laid out on his bed, eyes hooded as they reached for him. 

It didn’t work. 

“You’re not mine. You would never… if they hadn’t… if I didn’t….” 

Sam leaned up, silencing Castiel with a chaste kiss. 

“They did, and we are,” Sam whispered. Cas didn’t open his eyes. 

“Go to bed, Sam.” 

 

~~~~~~

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

 

Sam went to bed late, but Dean was up early. 

Cas heard him come into the library- the first indication that any kind of real time had passed. He glanced to the pile of discarded books. It was larger than he remembered. 

“Good morning, Dean.” 

Dean’s hands came to rest on his shoulders, thumbs pressing in with just the right pressure. Cas rolled them, giving Dean a little feedback. The man hummed, leaning in. 

“What can I do for you, master?” he asked. His lips brushed the shell of Cas’s ear, and the angel groaned. The moment was over. 

“Are you dressed?” 

“For now.” 

Cas sat forward, pulling away from Dean’s touch. He turned around to find Dean standing there- thankfully- in clothes. He was wearing a t-shirt over a pair of worn jeans. When he saw Cas looking, Dean smirked, but dropped his gaze. He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops, pulling his jeans low on his hips. 

“Sam said you sent him away,” Dean said, half explaining and half apologizing. “We thought maybe you had a preference.” 

“Oh… no,” Cas stammered. His gaze was fixed on the scrap of panty visible above Dean’s jeans. “No, I don’t-” 

“You know you wouldn’t be my first,” Dean said. His body language was carefully nonchalant, but he wouldn’t meet Cas’s gaze. “It’s just a task now, like anything else.” 

“It is  _ not _ like anything else,” Cas snapped, and Dean winced and went quickly to his knees.    
“I apologize-” Dean started, but Cas cut him off. 

“No, stand up. Stand up and look at me.” 

When Dean hesitated, Cas stood, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to his feet. 

“I said  _ look _ at me.” 

Dean raised his eyes, fixing his gaze somewhere in the vicinity of Cas’s throat. Cas set his jaw and stepped into Dean’s space. He hooked two fingers through the leather collar and pulled, forcing Dean to look higher. 

“It is not just another task,” Cas said. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Say it.” 

“It’s not just another task.”

“Good. Have you eaten?”

“No, sir. Sam isn’t up. I’m letting him sleep.” 

“Alright. Go get a glass of water and anything else you’d like to eat or drink. When you’re finished with it, come back here.” 

“Can I bring you anything?” 

“I don’t eat, Dean.” 

“Maybe you want something else, then?” Dean asked suggestively. Cas froze, trapped between the desire to step back, and the desire to step forward. 

He was immediately disgusted with himself. 

“No, Dean.” 

~~~~~

 

After almost two days of research, Castiel realized that they were reading whatever he gave them… but they couldn’t retain the information. It came to his attention when he found a promising lead, only to recognize the referenced text as one that Sam had already searched. 

Sure enough, Sam’s book had a wealth of new information- none of which Sam recognized. He remembered the chapter before and the chapter after, but not the parts relating to the collars. 

When Castiel pointed it out, Sam’s eyes narrowed, before sliding off the page like rain. 

The same thing happened when he showed it to Dean. When questioned, neither of them seemed able to remember that he had even mentioned it. 

Castiel sighed and collected the books they had already searched, adding them back to his pile of potential material. 

Castiel told them to go and occupy themselves, and in retrospect, he should have known to be more specific. 

What they did, was clean. 

They cleaned the locker room and the bedrooms and the kitchen and the dishes and the hallways. By the time it occurred to Castiel to go look for them, they were in the garage, both of them scrubbing desperately at an old mark where oil had spilled onto the concrete. Sam’s palms were red and chapped, and Dean’s arms were beginning to shake with fatigue. 

Cas dropped to his knees, ignoring the soapy water seeping into his slacks. Weakly, he reached for Sam, holding the man’s hands between his own. From this distance, Cas could see signs of malnourishment in his nail beds. 

He pressed his lips silently to Sam’s knuckles, letting his grace heal what it could. 

“I don’t know how to help you,” he whispered. 

“Use us,” Dean answered. His voice was a rasp, and Castiel felt Sam flinch. “Please.” 

Cas sent them to bed, and went back to his books. 

 

~~~~~

 

Castiel began setting timers. At eight, and noon, and eight, he made sure that they were fed. 

Every hour, on the hour, he checked to make sure that they were drinking enough and using the lavatory and he made sure that they bathed and changed their clothes. 

And he checked on them, to make sure they were safe. 

Usually, they were. 

He tried to keep them busy, and occupied- tried to give them tasks that they could complete. But they were unwilling to address failure, unable to compensate for mistakes. 

Once-  _ once- _ he made the mistake of ordering them to leisure, specifically barring them from performing any kind of menial labor. Within an hour, Sam had some kind of seizure. He didn’t stop until Castiel  _ ordered _ him to, at which point he stood up and requested another task. 

Blood leaked from his ears and nose. Cas found nothing to heal. 

Sam kept himself busy, taking a week to detail the antique cars in the bunker garage. 

Dean stayed with Cas, ferrying books to and fro, fetching notebooks and referenced items from the Men of Letters’ stores. He didn’t stop offering sexual favors, and seemed increasingly agitated when Castiel turned him down. 

And then, finally, it got out of hand. 

Dean knelt at Cas’s feet, his head resting against Cas’s knee. That seemed the place he seemed most comfortable, the most able to relax. Castiel found it unnecessarily intimate, but he couldn’t bring himself to send Dean away. 

He couldn’t deny it felt good, when Dean began stroking the inside of his calf, his fingers making little circles on the inside of Cas’s knee. Cas let him keep going- it was harmless. 

Dean moved higher, stroking the inside of his thigh, and Cas hardened despite himself. It felt good, and it was close to what he’d imagined doing with Dean. 

He’d imagined quite a bit  _ more, _ actually, if he was being honest with himself. He’d imagined having Dean naked, splayed out on their bed while Cas explored every inch of him, licking his way up Dean’s-

“Stop it!” Cas nearly yelled. Dean froze, his palm pressed against the crotch of Cas’s pants. Cas pushed back, out of Dean’s reach. 

“You’re hard,” Dean said, almost accusingly. 

“Go to bed, Dean.” 

The human’s eyes widened, his pupils constricting, 

“Cas-”

“ _ Bed! _ ” Cas shouted. He didn’t have the willpower to deal with this, at the moment. 

Dean’s eyes dropped, and he mumbled a “yes, master” before vanishing down the hallway. 

Castiel groaned, letting his forehead rest on the table. He couldn’t win. 

 

~~~~~

 

Cas waited a couple minutes for his erection to fade, and then he went to apologize. 

There was no answer when he knocked on Dean’s door, and that was concerning. 

Cas wrestled with his desire to respect Dean’s privacy. If the human wasn’t answering, it was because he wanted to be left alone-

But then again, neither brother had demonstrated an ability to act on their own desires for weeks now. Beyond the door, it was possible that Dean had hurt himself, or was experiencing some side effect of the spell. 

“I’m coming in,” Cas announced, and pushed the door open. 

The room was empty. The blankets were untouched, the bed pristine beneath the various torture implements hung on the wall. 

Cas kicked himself. Of course Dean wouldn’t want to sleep in here. And Cas had sent him to bed, but hadn’t specified which  _ one. _

Cas closed the door and headed down the hall, knocking softly on each door before performing a perfunctory check. They were all empty, the beds dark and unmade, mattresses leaning against the wall. 

As Cas approached Sam’s room, he heard voices. Sam’s, then Dean’s. Dean sounded angry about something, and Cas walked faster, trying to catch the gist of the conversation. 

There was a muffled crash and Dean cried out. 

Cas broke into a run, turning the corner and pushing the door open without knocking. 

Sam looked up, panicked. He opened his mouth to say something, but he apparently couldn’t find the words. 

“What are you doing?” Cas asked hollowly. 

He could see what it looked like. 

Dean was face-down on the bed, his arms twisted behind him and held at the small of his back. Sam was straddling his thighs, keeping Dean’s body pinned beneath his own. 

Neither brother was dressed. 

Neither would answer him. 

“Get up, Sam.” 

The younger man stood, instantly, regardless of his nudity. He kept his gaze down. 

“Go into the hall, and wait for me,” Cas said. He didn’t watch Sam leave, instead focusing on the way Dean pulled himself up into a kneeling position. 

“Are you hurt?” 

Dean closed his eyes. 

“Yes, master.”

Cas reached out, letting his fingers rest on Dean’s knee. 

The damage wasn’t as bad as the first time. But as Cas healed him, it became evident that the injuries had not come from a single event. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cas whispered. He wanted to pull Dean into his arms, but he didn’t know how the man would react.

“You didn’t ask,” Dean answered. Cas paled. 

“You’re supposed to tell me when something is hurting you.” 

Dean let out a little laugh. 

“I have been telling you. We both have. You just didn’t understand.” 

Cas groaned, tearing at his hair. 

“What did you tell me? What did I miss?” 

Dean reached up, then, taking Cas’s wrists and pulling them away from his face. When Cas looked up at him, Dean leaned forward and pressed their lips together. 

“Use me,” he whispered. 

Cas was in hell. There was no other explanation for the way his fantasy was coming true in an utterly impermissible situation. 

“I can’t,” he muttered, freeing his wrists and pulling away. Dean’s face hardened. 

“Then send Sam back in.”

“No!” 

Dean paled then, placing his hands palm down on the bed, and bowing his head. 

“Apologies for being insolent,” he said, and Cas was utterly lost. “I can take it from here. You don’t need to concern yourself with this.” 

“Of course I do!” Cas protested. “It was my family that did this, they did it to get back at me, so whatever I need to do to protect you, I’m going to do it!” 

“Then  _ use _ me,” Dean repeated, looking up. “Someone has to.” 

Cas felt his throat tightening. 

“The collar?” 

“Yeah.” 

Cas’s mind raced. 

“How long…?”

“Since before you came back. They… someone has to,” Dean summarized. He shrugged. Castiel felt sick. “Doesn’t matter. Not like it means something.” 

“Of course it means something, Dean. Of course it would. If I… if we…”

“Don’t say that,” Dean interrupted. A flicker of pain went across his face. “Apologies for giving or-”

“You can give me orders!” Cas cried, exasperated. “Give me orders and make fun of my clothes and make references to movies I haven’t seen and be  _ Dean _ again! Do what  _ Dean _ would want to do!” 

Of all the reactions he could possibly have predicted, Dean yelling “ _ fuck! _ ” and launching across the bed was not one of them. 


	3. Chapter 3

Under normal circumstances, a human wouldn’t be able to stand up to an angel. 

These were not normal circumstances, which is what made it possible for Dean to grab Cas by the lapels and yank him down onto the bed. It was all Castiel could do to keep from landing on top of him; but he managed. 

“Dean, what-”

Dean leaned up and kissed him, hard, teeth digging into Cas’s lower lip. 

Cas pulled back and Dean followed, holding on to Cas’s jacket like his life depended on it. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What you  _ told _ me!” Dean snapped. He fell back onto the bedspread on his knees, his fingers digging into his hair. “This is so fucked up.” 

Castiel stared at him for a second, then realized he’d made another mistake. 

It wasn’t enough that the angels had broken and enslaved his friends. They’d been determined that Castiel participate in their abuse. They’d made sexual servitude into a requirement of the humans’ survival. 

Castiel could imagine it- the two brothers locked in Heaven’s jail, alone with each other… coming to the realization of what they needed. 

And then Cas had ordered Dean to  _ choose, _ basically  _ forcing _ the man to come onto him. 

“We’ll find another way,” Cas declared. “I won’t do this.”

Dean’s face fell. 

“I have to. We’ve put it off as long as we could.” 

Cas didn’t know where to look. Dean was staring up at him, and he couldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Normally he’d just look at his chest or his shoes but… Dean was very naked. 

“It has to be me or Sam?”

“Or someone else you choose, probably.”

Cas’s stomach was turning itself inside out. For  _ years, _ he’d dreamed about the Winchesters, being able to have them and love them and  _ know _ them. But never like this. Even when he’d been  _ god, _ he hadn’t contemplated  _ forcing _ them. 

Still, he couldn’t stop the flare of excitement when he realized that this was going to happen, it was going to happen right  _ now, _ and there was nothing that either of them could do about it. 

And Dean had already chosen him. 

“Do you want me to get undressed?” he asked quietly. Maybe it would seem less intimate if he were partially clothed. It would probably be more respectful to maintain at least some modicum of privacy. 

Apparently Dean didn’t think so, because he nodded. 

Cas turned away, facing the wall as he undressed so Dean couldn’t see the beginnings of his arousal. If he had any kind of decency, he’d stay soft through this whole predicament. He wouldn’t be able to get hard at all, knowing that his friend was here unwillingly. 

“What do we have to do?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. Dean cleared his throat. 

“Um. You have to, uh… finish. Inside me.” 

Cas’s cock got a little harder, anticipating. 

“Can you look the other way?” 

“Yeah. Sure.” 

Dean sounded disappointed. He’d probably been expecting Cas to say he couldn’t do it. 

When Cas turned around, Dean was laying flat on his belly, his head pillowed on his arms, the blankets bunched under his hips. 

He was so beautiful that for a moment, Cas could only stand and stare. 

And then he remembered that Dean wasn’t showing him any of this willingly, and he felt even worse. 

“There’s, um, there’s lube on the nightstand,” Dean said, without raising his head. 

Lube. Right. 

Human males weren’t designed with this activity in mind. 

Castiel grabbed the bottle and poured a liberal amount into his hand, using it to slick up his rapidly hardening cock.

He crawled up onto the bed, and Dean spread his knees wider, making room. His pink hole was suddenly exposed, twitching in the cool air. 

“I cleaned you up, earlier, when I was healing you,” Cas apologized. “Will the lubrication on my penis be sufficient, or do you need some, as well?” 

“I should… probably have some,” Dean said after a moment’s contemplation. Neither of them moved. “Um, I can’t really… do you mind…?”

“Oh! Yes. One moment.” 

Cas emptied even more of the slippery lubricant onto his fingers. He was probably overdoing it, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Dean.

Gingerly, he pressed the tip of his index finger against the man’s hole. Instantly it tensed, drawing tight. He rubbed his fingertip around the rim, feeling the texture of the skin. 

Dean let out a little whimper, and Cas drew back. 

“Am I hurting you?” 

“I’m just not used to it yet.” 

Cas wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. 

“I could…” he hesitated, nearly sure that he was about to cross a boundary. “You’re very tense, and I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you. But I could use my fingers, to try to prepare you?” 

Dean exhaled. 

“Yeah. Um. If you want to.” 

Taking a breath, Cas pressed a single fingertip against Dean’s entrance, feeling it relax and give way. He twisted, spreading the lubricant around the inside of Dean’s rim. The muscles fluttered against him, and it was impossible not to imagine how it would feel on his cock. 

“Is that alright?” 

“Yeah.”

Dean hesitated before answering, and Cas realized it had been a stupid question. He withdrew, massaging circles around Dean’s hole before fingering him again, deeper this time. Dean let out a small moan. 

“Too much?” 

“No… nevermind. Sorry.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

Dean burrowed his face deeper into his arms. 

“I’m going to try adding another finger. Try to relax for me.” 

Dean breathed out, slowly, but he didn’t tense. If anything, he seemed to relax further as Cas’s fingers stretched him. 

When Cas had imagined this, he’d assumed he’d be able to see Dean’s face. He wanted all the expressions of pleasure that his actions would bring to his lover. As it were, he couldn’t see anything- but he could hear. Dean periodically let out helpless little whimpers, not of pain, but of something else. He was utterly motionless, until Cas added a third finger. Then his hips began to rock, almost thoughtlessly, against the mattress. 

“Dean?”

The man groaned, and was still.

“Sorry. Sorry-”

“Don’t apologize. Whatever you need to do to get through this, it’s fine.” 

Dean turned his head slightly, until Cas could see his profile. 

“It’s… really not all that bad.” 

“Yes it is.” 

Cas knew Dean has been through worse- from the other angels, in hell, while hunting- but he wasn’t going to let him minimize this. He had the right to feel violated and uncomfortable. 

Dean turned his face back into the mattress. 

“I think I’m ready,” he said softly. Cas withdrew instantly. 

He was still hard. He couldn’t help it. The feeling of Dean’s body around his fingers- the sounds he was making, it all went straight to Dean’s cock. 

Carefully, Cas lowered himself down over his friend. Dean’s back was hot against his chest, and Cas couldn’t help a flush of excitement at the words tattooed on Dean’s skin. 

_ Castiel’s.  _

Carefully, Cas lowered his hips, letting his erection rest against the furrow of Dean’s ass. He drew back, lining himself up. 

“Wait,” Dean said suddenly. “Cas, wait.” 

Cas froze, his hips still pressed against Dean’s backside. 

“I have to tell you something,” Dean said slowly. He wouldn’t raise his face- it was clear that he was humiliated. 

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Cas said gently. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Cursed people cannot give consent.” 

“Yeah, but-” 

“You can’t be held responsible for what those angels-” 

“ _ I wanted it. _ ” 

Cas blinked, trying to process. 

“What?” 

Dean groaned, and buried his face further into his elbow. With his free hand he grabbed Cas’s wrist, yanking it down to waist-level. He rolled to the side, pushing Cas’s hand against his half-hard cock. 

“Okay?” Dean asked his elbow. “Get it?”

Castiel had imagined Dean taking a similar action- but definitely not under these circumstances. He withdrew his hand. 

“Dean. Listen to me. Your body’s physiological response is automatic. It doesn’t mean that you  _ want- _ ” 

“Stop being nice to me! This is  _ all my fault! _ ” 

Dean was finally angry enough to override his embarrassment. He glared over his shoulder at Cas, then seemed to deflate in on himself. Cas felt a surge of pity. 

“You didn’t choose to get kidnapped, Dean.” 

“This wasn’t part of it,” Dean mumbled. His voice was thick. “When they first started training us, this wasn’t part of it. And then… you can’t lie to a mind reader, you know? They knew we’d try to get out of this, and they wanted to show us how  _ deep _ they could go. They didn’t stop at surface thoughts, they went  _ deep  _ and they kept digging and digging and  _ digging-”  _

Cas’s heart dropped, but Dean kept going. 

“I keep seeing his face, the way it changed when he found… the way he  _ laughed. _ ” Dean inhaled deep, trying to dig his face further into the covers. “I’ve known for a while but... I swore that I would never, ever try to drag you into this fucked up mess of mine.”

“So that’s how they decided to break you,” Cas realized. 

“Break  _ all _ of us,” Dean groaned. “You, me, and Sam.” 

“You had to choose. Between each other or me.” 

“In heaven, it was you,” Dean confessed. “Over and over and over, it was you. And I fought but-”

“You can’t fight an angel.”

“Yeah.”

Cas rolled to the side, onto his back. He’d never been less aroused in his life. 

Dean turned his head a little, peering at him with one eye. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“ _ None _ of this is your fault, Dean.” 

“There shouldn’t have been anything for them to find- maybe a passing thought or two. But there was, Cas. So much. You’d probably be disgusted if you knew.” 

“I wouldn’t be disgusted.” 

Dean snorted. Cas looked over at him. 

“Would you like me to look?”

“ _ No! _ ” 

Dean clapped his hands over his head like it would protect him from angel telepathy.

“I wouldn’t, Dean. Never without your permission.” 

Dean mumbled something into the mattress. 

“You have to lift your head up. As previously stated; I will not read your mind.” 

“I thought about having sex with you.”

Cas blinked. 

“And you think that would be disgusting enough to end our friendship.” 

“ _ Sodomy, _ Cas. Isn’t that a big one in the bible?”

“I’m utterly indifferent to sexual orientation.” 

“I thought about it more than once.” 

Cas paused. 

“It would be… hypocritical of me to be judgemental on that front.” 

Dean turned his head a little. 

“I, uh…  _ acted _ on those thoughts.” 

“I remain unphased.” 

“It was dumb shit, too. Not just sex. But like. Dumb shit.” 

“Such as?” 

Dean exhaled. 

“I thought about sharing a room with you. In the bunker.”

“A bed, you mean.” 

“Well yeah, but like… more than that. Dopey shit, like waking up next to you.” 

Cas blinked. 

“When we have finished, here… would you like me to stay?” 

Dean groaned. 

“You don’t have to make an honest woman out of me, Cas. Don’t you understand?  _ This is happening because I am fucked up. _ ” 

“I would like to stay,” Cas interrupted. “When I pictured making love to you, I always imagined that we would share a bed, afterward.” 

Dean froze, turning his head slightly. 

“... what?” 

“In your liaisons with women, you frequently spend the night and depart in the morning,” Cas explained. “So when building the scenario, I thought it likely that I might be afforded the same consideration.” 

“... what?” 

“I hope this does not lessen your opinion of me. I never mentioned it because I thought you would be uninterested in ‘dumb shit,’ as you categorized it.” 

“Cas?” 

“Yes, Dean?” 

“If you’re just saying this to make me feel better, so help me I will kick your ass.” 

Cas lowered himself gently back down over Dean’s body, letting his chest lay flush against Dean’s back. His cock had softened during the conversation, but it quickly began hardening at the feel of Dean’s skin. 

“You cannot imagine what it has done to me, to see you offering yourself this way.”

“Fuck, Cas…” 

“How badly I wished it were real.” 

“I was really selling it, huh?” 

Cas hesitated, then pressed his lips to Dean’s shoulder, avoiding the collar. 

“I did notice your training was somewhat uneven. The command to speak politely seems to give you more trouble than the command to be sexually submissive.” 

Dean grumbled something, burying it in a cough. Cas bit his lip.

“I have a request.” 

“Anything,” Dean answered sarcastically. 

“I feel you may classify this as ‘dumb shit.’”

Dean laughed, but said nothing. 

“When I imagined this, I enjoyed the thought of being able to see your face.” 

“Sap.” 

“Hmmm,” Cas agreed, kissing Dean’s shoulder again. “It is just a request.” 

Dean wriggled, trying to get out from under Cas’s weight. 

“Whatever. If you wanna see my o-face, fine.” 

Dean’s cheeks were flushed, the wrinkles from the sheet cutting a line across one. Cas had never seen anything so perfect in his life. Very slowly, he moved closer, giving Dean time to pull back. 

Dean leaned in, instead, their lips meeting softly. Dean’s hands came to rest on his waist, fearfully, like he thought Cas was going to reprimand him. Cas smiled, not breaking the kiss. One of his knees was slotted between Dean’s thighs, and he moved it up, pushing the man’s legs wider. Dean hissed. 

“What is it?” 

“The collar… thinks I’m stalling,” Dean groaned. His fingers tightened on Cas’s skin. “Slaves and masters don’t kiss.” 

“I didn’t know,” Cas apologized. 

“You’ve never done it,” Dean said. “Just… ah, just fuck me already?” 

Cas almost kissed him again, but thought better of it. Instead he reached between them, taking himself in hand and stroking. 

“Try to relax?”

“I’m not gonna break, Cas.” 

Dean was beautiful, spread out beneath him on the sheets. The human had his eyes closed, his face turned to the side as though he were ashamed. When Castiel breached him, Dean’s brow furrowed and he let out a low moan, but he didn’t open his eyes. 

Cas rocked into him, wanting to never stop, but relishing the idea of coming. 

He sat back onto his knees, pulling Dean’s ass up onto his lap. Dean’s surprised shout turned to a groan when Cas fisted his cock, lube-slick thumb rubbing over the head. 

“Ah, fuck, Cas, please-”

Castiel rolled his hips up, his cockhead sliding against Dean’s inner walls. At the same time he began stroking, fingers catching on the mushroom head of Dean’s cock. Dean writhed under him, hands fisting in the sheets. Cas couldn’t tell if the human was seeking more stimulation or less- he suspected Dean didn’t know either. 

He felt wonderful- warm and wet and tight, his hole fluttering around Cas’s cock, tightening and releasing as he thrashed. 

“Would you like me to make you come?” 

“God, yes, Cas-”

Cas let a spark of grace pass into Dean’s body, drawing his orgasm out without preamble. Dean actually screamed, going rigid, his hole clenching around Cas’s length hard enough that the angel couldn’t hold out any more. He spilled himself into Dean with a groan. It was only then that Dean opened his eyes. 

For a moment they just stared at each other. Castiel wasn’t sure what to say. He would have been hopelessly lost under normal circumstances; these weren’t normal circumstances. 

Dean was breathing hard, sweat beaded on his chest as it rose and fell. Come pooled on his belly, white and wet. 

Cas shifted uncomfortably, causing his softening cock to slide from Dean’s ass. 

Dean groaned and Cas regained his senses, using a small amount of grace to clean them both up. He enjoyed seeing Dean disheveled, but now was not the time. 

“Did that fulfil the requirements of the enchantment?”

“Yeah.” Dean rubbed at his head. “It doesn’t hurt any more, so I’m probably good for another two days.”

“When will you be able to feel the effects?”

“I dunno, round 36 hours?” 

“Perhaps we should repeat the exercise then,” Cas suggested. Dean raised an eyebrow. 

“You looking for a repeat already?” 

“Wouldn’t want to cause you discomfort.” 

“You’re gonna get wrung out fast then, cuz-” Dean’s expression changed to one of shock. “Oh, shit, Sam’s still in the hallway.” 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haaa, they did the frick frack. 
> 
> I was trying to do like one of those fics where they just seem DETERMINED to misunderstand each other no matter how clearly the other person speaks but... gah, I just can't do it. I can't write it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consent in this chapter gets SUPER DUPER WEIRD.

Castiel grimaced, sitting up and quickly redressing. Dean cleared his throat, pulling on his collar. 

“Can I make a request?” 

Cas turned back to him. 

“Of course. Anything.” 

Dean’s face burned as he stared at the floor. 

“What you saw with me and Sam. It wasn’t… what it looked like. We weren’t, uh… we weren’t fighting.” 

Cas raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ve seen Sam force you into things, since I got back. It’s his way of trying to protect you from the effects of the enchantment.” 

Dean rubbed his face. 

“Well yeah, but still. Uh. I mean at first, but…” 

“You don’t need to protect him, Dean.” 

“I like it, okay?” Dean groaned into his hands. His shoulders slumped. “Do I have to lay out  _ all  _ my disgusting kinks today?” 

Cas sat on the bed beside him. 

“I need to go take care of your brother. We can discuss this later. But you aren’t disgusting. You never could be.” 

Dean groaned again and Cas kissed his temple. 

“Do you need anything? Would you like to go take a shower?” 

“God, yes.” 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Cas said. The spell would take it as an order, but he’d given it under supervision before, and it seemed safe. Dean instantly leaned back, stretching languidly across the bed like a cat. He rolled over twice and then got up to dress. 

Cas opened the door, slowly. Sam was waiting for him, his arms crossed behind his back, his head down. The moment Cas stepped across the threshold, he dropped to his knees. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I apologize, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

“Sam, stop-”

Sam’s jaw snapped shut, and Cas winced. He heard Dean step through the door behind him. Sam didn’t raise his eyes. 

Cas waited until Dean had gone down the hallway, and then knelt beside Sam. 

“We need to talk.” 

Sam nodded, keeping his eyes down. 

Cas gestured to the bedroom door, and Sam stood and followed him inside. Cas gestured to the bed, and Sam sat. He didn’t move to cover himself. Cas pulled up a chair, sitting opposite him.

“Dean is taking a shower, so we have a few minutes. You should know that your brother and I made love. I understand that it’s something that he needs, because of the curse he’s under?” 

Sam nodded. 

“Yes sir.” 

“And you?” 

Sam’s face flushed. 

“The same. But… alternating days.” 

“And the two of you have been… caring for each other? Since you got back?” 

Sam nodded. 

“Since our time with the angels. They wanted to make sure we were, uh… capable. I guess.” He paused. “I wasn’t hurting him. He told you that?” 

“Yes. Though I’ll admit a certain curiosity on that front.” 

Sam opened his mouth, cleared his throat, and then answered. 

“Dean… when we figured out what the spell wanted us to… uh,  _ do… _ he said he’d rather die. And I…” 

Sam clenched his eyes shut, exhaling. 

“I wouldn’t let him give up. Not after everything we’d already been through. I wouldn’t let him give up. So I, uh…” his voice broke. “They had us in this room and I just, we fought and I got him pinned and I  _ forced _ him.” 

Cas’s heart dropped. He’d guessed that that had been the case, but to hear it from Sam’s own mouth… 

“But that was months ago,” Cas said, questioning. 

Sam’s fingers tightened on the bedspread. 

“The next night we talked about it. It was my turn and it  _ hurt  _ not to _ , _ Cas, I was desperate. I  _ begged  _ him and he- he said I’d have to make him. But the way he looked at me… ever since then... ” 

Sam shifted, and Cas was startled to realize that the man was uncomfortable. Sam leaned forward. 

“You can get dressed, if you want,” Cas said suddenly. It hadn’t occurred to him that Sam was waiting for permission. Almost instantly, Sam grabbed the sheet, pulling it over his groin. 

“Thanks,” he said.  

“You forced him again,” Cas said, returning to the topic at hand. Sam shook his head. 

“No. He told me I’d have to, but Dean and I have been fighting since we were kids. I know how he fights when he’s letting me win.” 

A thrill went through Cas’s spine, picturing the two of them struggling playfully for dominance. 

“I need you to be clear with me on this, Sam,” he said, and Sam’s head snapped up. 

“He likes it,” Sam said evenly. “We both like it. It’s mortifying, but we both get off on it.”

“Which is why you never told me about any of this.” 

Sam’s face colored. 

“That’s one of the reasons, yeah.” 

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. 

“What are the other reasons?” 

“Dean’s completely in love with you,” Sam answered immediately. Castiel’s eyes widened. 

“You knew about that?” 

“For years,” Sam said, nodding. His voice pitched higher, like he was struggling, but he kept speaking. “It’s why I’ve never made a move, I knew he’d be heartbroken. I couldn’t take away his chance.” 

Cas blinked. 

“That question came off as an order, didn’t it.” 

“The last few, sir,” Sam said weakly. “Apologies if that’s more information than you wanted.” 

Cas rubbed his chin. This was certainly… a lot. 

“I have to admit that this conversation was much  _ simpler _ than the one I had with Dean.” 

Sam actually laughed. Something inside Cas melted, and he realized how long it had been since he’d heard either of them happy. 

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Sam said. Then he sobered. “So now that you know… how do you want to…?” 

“You said you’d never ‘made a move,’” Cas said, thinking. “Can I take that to mean that you considered an intimate relationship between us, at some point?” 

Sam nodded, then stopped and shook his head. 

“Yeah, but that was before, now that you and Dean have… I wouldn’t do anything to…” 

“Sam,” Cas said, leaning in close. “Are you  _ still _ interested in a sexual relationship between us?” 

Sam met his eyes, close enough that Cas could feel him breathing. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Cas was giving orders now, but he was suspiciously willing to forgive himself. The three of them had been embroiled in this for too long. He watched Sam’s face closely. 

“Do you want to continue your sexual relationship with your brother?” 

Sam’s face burned red, but his “yes, sir” was clear and instant.  

“Last question, then,” Cas said, reaching forward to cup Sam’s jaw. He forced Sam’s chin up, until the man was forced to meet his eyes again. “Would you like to watch me fuck Dean into this mattress?” 

Sam’s eyes widened and he actually choked a little. 

“ _ God, _ yes, sir.” 

Cas smiled. 

“Good.” 

 

~~~~~

 

When Dean got back from the shower, he had to pause in the doorway, towel around his hips, and take a moment to appreciate life’s unexpected pleasures. 

Today’s edition took the form of his brother, naked, pinning Cas to the bed while he mouthed at the angel’s neck. 

“Good talk?” Dean asked, leaning against the doorframe. 

Castiel cracked an eye. 

“Sam’s been very helpful.” 

Dean coughed, dropping his eyes. 

“He told you, huh?”

“About how you enjoy being sexually dominated? Yes.” 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Jeez, don’t say it like that. I’m not a wuss or anything. I just like it when a guy’s… you know. Strong.” 

“Hmmm,” Cas agreed. 

“We were talking strategy,” Sam said. He rolled to the side, leaving one thigh draped over Cas’s hips. “It’s my turn next.” 

Dean licked his lips. 

“Yeah, I know. But not until tomorrow night.” 

“It helps to be prepared, though,” Sam hedged. He looked to Cas. Cas grinned. 

“Can I ask you some questions, Dean?”

“Sure, I guess.” 

“The collar will compel you to answer.” 

Dean paused. He shifted his towel.

“Yeah, okay.” 

Cas smiled wider. 

“In that case; is it just  _ physical _ strength that turns you on? Or would you be open to  _ other  _ kinds of forced submission?” 

His hand rose to finger Sam’s collar, making it clear exactly what he meant. 

“Both kinds,” Dean answered weakly. 

“So if I were to, say, order you onto the bed, that would turn you on?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, standing up straighter. He crossed the room in three steps, and sat on the edge of the bed. 

“What if I told you to drop your towel?” 

Dean obeyed instantly, letting the terrycloth fall to the side. His cock was chubbing up, but he made no attempt to hide it. Cas surveyed him slowly. 

“And if I told you to kiss Sam? On the mouth?” 

Dean swallowed but obeyed, crawling across the bed. Sam rolled onto his back, letting Dean’s body cover his. He leaned up to meet Dean’s kiss, nipping at his lower lip and groaning when Dean’s tongue flicked out. 

“Sam hasn’t come yet,” Cas remarked. He sat back, watching the brothers grinding together. “Maybe you should suck him off.” 

“Where’d you even learn to talk like that?” Dean groaned, but he was already sliding down Sam’s body, leaving a line of red marks where he paused to nip at Sam’s chest and belly. 

Sam groaned when Dean’s mouth closed over the head of his dick. Dean sucked it, wet and sloppy, spit dripping over his fist as he stroked in counterpoint with his mouth. The muscles of his back flexed and relaxed, making the letters of Castiel’s name flow across his skin. 

“I think you should let him touch himself,” Sam said. He was splayed back on the bedspread, his legs encircling Dean’s body. 

“Should I let you, Dean?” 

“Yessir,” Dean breathed, pulling off Sam’s cock just long enough to get the words out in one syllable. Cas smiled. 

“I think I have a better idea. I think Sam should return the favor.” 

Both brothers looked at him for a moment, stunned, but neither protested. Dean turned around, laying partway on his side. He let his cheek rest on Sam’s thigh, suckling lazily at his brother’s erection. Sam did the same, in reverse, and Cas felt himself shuddering. He’d planned to be a passive participant in this, but he couldn’t hold out any longer. 

“I propose a competition,” he said breathlessly, shimmying out of his clothes. “Whoever gives the best head gets to fuck me.” 

Both brothers froze, looking silently up at him- and then they both burst into action. Lazy kisses and licks gave way to sucking and deep throating, both of them getting absolutely filthy as they struggled to get the other brother off first. Sam brought his free hand up to cup Dean’s balls, one spit-slick finger delving between his cheeks to play with his hole. Dean protested, Sam’s cock muffling what sounded suspiciously like the word ‘cheater.’ 

Cas stroked himself, watching sweat beading on the brothers’ skin as they struggled not to come. He would have guessed that Dean’s recent orgasm would have given him an advantage, but Sam’s hand shifted, one finger slipping inside to rub against Dean’s inner walls. 

Dean groaned and shuddered, spending himself into his brother’s mouth. Sam held him through it, tonguing his softening length until Dean shoved him away. 

“Not fair,” Dean grumbled, but he smiled when Cas leaned in to kiss him. 

“So good for me,” Cas murmured, and Dean smiled against the angel’s mouth. Cas pushed him back, not breaking the kiss. Dean ended up flat on his back, Cas straddling him, thighs spread wide. 

Sam didn’t need instructions. He came up behind Cas, one arm encircling his midsection. Sam was hard and spit-slick, pressing against Cas’s back. The angel moaned, canting his hips higher and letting his head rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean looked eagerly up to Sam. 

“Do it,” he panted. “Wanna see you do it.” 

Cas twitched his grace, slicking himself just as Sam pushed against his opening. He didn’t press hard, but Cas’s body yielded easily, letting him inside. 

“Oh,” Cas whispered. He could feel Dean’s heartbeat beneath his cheek. Dean’s hands were on his thighs, holding him steady as Sam pushed further. 

It hurt, a little, but that was lost under the pleasure of being here- in Sam’s bed, held tight between his lovers. 

Inside him, Sam pressed up against some barrier and Cas winced. Sam didn’t push further, just fucked into him with short, gentle little strokes. 

Sam’s hands came to rest on Cas’s hips, his fingers entwining with Dean’s. The two of them held him steady as Sam went harder, deeper. Cas held his weight up off of Dean, his arms trembling with something other than physical exertion. 

His cock rubbed along Dean’s belly, leaving clear lines of precome. Cas could feel it dripping from his slit, every time Sam pushed into him.

“I can’t… Sam,  _ please, _ ” Cas whimpered. Sam growled, finally sheathing himself fully inside Cas’s body. He fucked in hard, his hand on the back of Cas’s neck, shoving the angel down against Dean’s chest. Cas panted and squirmed, his orgasm building as his cock ground against Dean’s belly. 

“Come on me,” Dean whispered in his ear, and Cas went off, the sensation in his ass immediately becoming overwhelming as he came for the second time. 

Fortunately Sam wasn’t too far behind, slamming home and collapsing onto Cas’s back. The angel turned his head until he could meet Sam’s mouth. Cas could taste Dean’s come on Sam’s mouth, Sam’s tongue licking against him, his softening cock still buried in his ass. 

Cas didn’t need to sleep, but Sam and Dean were both wiped out. They fell asleep in a pile, Sam’s head on Cas’s chest, one of Cas’s arms around Dean’s shoulders. 

For once, Cas was able to watch over them and know that they were safe. 

The previous few weeks had begun to wear heavily on him. The Winchesters did not live a safe lifestyle in normal times, but ever since Castiel’s kin had forced them into the collars, their own stubborn natures had turned on them. For the first time, Castiel’s human ignorance and negligence was a direct danger to the humans he loved. 

It was exhausting. 

He hadn’t realized just how exhausting until it faded, leaving him alone with the two of them. Safe, warm, and comfortable. Satiated. 

Cas smiled, and let them sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some clarifications here: 
> 
> Dean originally said no and Sam fucked him anyway: that's rape.   
> Dean was gonna die and Sam saved his life (both their lives) by raping him: that's still rape.   
> Dean realized he liked being manhandled and penetrated: it was still rape.   
> Dean later consented to rape-play with the same partner: the first time was still rape.   
> Dean later consented to top and bottom with the same partner, and other partners, while still engaging in rape play: it was still rape. 
> 
> Consent is not granted retroactively. Victims are not under any obligation to filter future consent through the lens of past rape. 
> 
>  
> 
> I had some trouble writing this chapter because it was kind of hard to write "we are all super into power play" in a situation where there actually *is* an imbalance of power while also making it clear that their could-be-real power play is actually very consensual and they all *care* that it is consensual. I stopped just short of Sam making 'T-for-timeout' and asking for everybody's stoplight color. I feel like it came off... awkward. Especially since Sam and Dean were both humiliated and Cas finally just rolled his eyes and forced Sam to fess up, which was not consensual.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this one but I promised I wouldn't publish any of it until I was done editing Going Down and... it is done editing! All I need is the art and it's gonna be published. BRB breathing into a paper bag. 
> 
> Original prompt: http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/119476.html?thread=43147956#t43147956


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